About Me

I consider myself a student of life and a citizen of the world. Have lived in different countries and discovered that home is where the heart is and that my heart can be in many places at once. Am currently on a search for humanity and for the path that will lead me closer to people, animals, nature, and - ultimately - myself.

Sunday, July 17, 2016

The Best They Can

A few weeks ago I ran
into an acquaintance and her very ill behaving puppy which already at seven
months old was the size of a large Shetland pony. I had met them a few times
before and knew that by human standards the dog was “out of control”.

"I’m sending my
dog to a trainer for five weeks", the owner of the dog told me almost
immediately upon our meeting. She was driving her car and the said dog sat in
the back seat, not because it wanted to, but because it had no other option, as
it was tied tightly by its choke collar to a hook on the ceiling. “We always do
this with our dogs, it’s much easier. After five weeks they come back obedient
and submissive.”

The puppy was trying
to shove its face out of the open window, but couldn’t without choking itself.
This did not deter it from trying. I nodded and smiled, but in my mind I
wondered how devastating for a dog it is to be sent away to a strange place only
a few months after he has arrived to his new home and family. And to go to
training with a stranger, no less. On the other hand, this is exactly what
happens with most horses, often several times in their lives. But I won’t get
into that now.

I have always thought
sending a dog away to be trained is a cop out, because really, isn’t it much
more important to train the owner? One could argue that people should not get
dogs if they don’t have the time, resources or interest to put into teaching
them how to be in their world. Especially a dog the size of a pony! I mean
hello?

Oh no.

I was definitely starting
to fall into judgement. But how could I not? It is so easy, after all. I’m sure
you know what I’m talking about, we all wrestle with judgmental thoughts
sometimes. More often than not. The thing is, however, I don’t want to be
judgmental. In fact, already years ago I decided to learn to neutrally observe
and understand, no matter what the situation. Judgment isn’t helpful, in my
opinion, it only divides people, alienating them from each other. Judgment, I
believe, is the root of so many negative interactions in the human world and I
want to avoid it the best I can.

But how to stop?

Brené Brown (yes, I’m
mentioning her again, she’s that good) introduces an interesting idea to fight
judgment: What if we believed people are doing the best they can?

I know, sounds
counter intuitive, doesn’t it?

But think about it. If
you assume everyone is doing the best they can, there is no space for blame and
judgment. And without judgment, there is more space for compassion. And having
compassion for the people you interact with on a daily basis will have a
definite and profound effect not only on the lives of the people you interact
with, but your own life as well. So really, whether people are doing the best
they can is irrelevant, it’s more important to believe they are doing the best they can.

This is some
difficult, deep work, I’m not going to lie. There are moments when I want to
yell out loud: “Did you see that? OMG, absolutely awful how some people don’t
give a shit!” And I try to talk myself out of the belief that everyone is going
the best they can. Because hello? Clearly that can’t possibly be true.

But then I take a deep
breath and catch myself. Usually at this point the universe will provide me
with a reminder. Which is exactly what happened the same week I ran into my
friend with her puppy. My husband, who was going through files on his old
computer, ran into a folder with ancient videos. One of those videos was of
Andiamo, a horse I used to own eleven years ago. The video shows him tacked up
with a vaulting pad and surcingle and his head pulled in with side reins that
are attached to the snaffle bit in his mouth. Also attached is a long longeline
and at the end of the line is who else, but me. Moi. Myself.

Andiamo looks tense.
His tail is tucked between his legs and his croup is low. Anxiously he lifts
his head and braces against the (very) short side reins while his back is like
a rod iron, flat and unyielding. The look in his eyes is wild, but despite the
evident panic, he is behaving like a “good boy”, cantering on the circle, doing
what I am asking him to do, allowing the vaulters to move on and around his
back.

I stand in the middle
of the circle, lunging him with pride, and most likely have no idea of my
horse’s true emotional state. Or perhaps I have an inkling, but I am thinking
that he is a green vaulting horse and he’s supposed to be a bit freaked out. I’m
not worried, because one day he’ll gets used to it all, he’ll stop being
afraid. Because horses are like that, always afraid of this or that or the
other thing, that’s normal. It is the humans’ job to continue doing what we do,
until the horse gets used to it. And if he really is freaked out, he wouldn’t
allow us do what we are doing, right?

“Wow, that looks absolutely
awful”, are the first words that came out of my mouth upon watching the video.
Yes, judgment. Of myself. Actually, I could almost argue that it wasn't judgment, but the truth. I couldn’t believe the short side reins, and how
Andiamo was opening and closing his mouth. Clearly he was in pain. And his eyes!
So fearful… and…and…

The irony of this
situation, of course, is the fact that for the past year I have had the privilege
to spend time getting to truly know this horse called Andiamo. And Andiamo, the horse on the video and who is now retired on his current owner’s property, is a kind, forgiving and wise soul. Back
in the day, he used to be a dressage and vaulting horse, winning ribbons, but for the past year he has been my teacher and guide to my less perfect self.

It is an
understatement to say that my philosophy and way of being with horses has
changed significantly in the past decade. Perhaps, instead of listing all that
has changed, it would be more accurate to admit that everything has changed. And how much can a human mind and heart
grow in just ten years!

Now, when I watch the video, I can see that we
should have stopped with Andiamo or perhaps not even started in the first place.
But I was in such a different place then, a celebrated vaulting coach, a
dressage rider and trainer. Competitive and goal oriented. I would not have
been capable of seeing horses in the light I see them now, even if someone
would have shown me. I was in a completely different mindset: human doing
instead of human being.

But, as I dared to
claim before, everyone is doing the best they can, even I am, on the video. I
wasn’t deliberately causing Andiamo distress; my awareness – in hindsight – was
simply limited. Which makes me wonder how limited it is now. Will I look back
at myself in ten years and label myself ignorant, yet again? What have I missed
today which tomorrow will be a blaring mistake, even abuse?

Perhaps this is a
lesson in humility, yet again. We cannot know where people are coming from. The
lady who is yelling at her kids or the trainer who kicks his mount with spurs;
they are all doing the best they can. No, really, they are. It may not seem
like that to some of us, but we also don’t know the whole story. We don’t know
where they have been, what their life looks like, what is their cross to carry.
We also don’t know where they are on their so called path. Maybe they aren’t
ready to look at what you and I are doing with our horses. Maybe they are not
there yet. Maybe even we aren’t there yet, even though we think we are enough
above it all to judge.

I have made a
commitment to myself to believe Brené Brown. To believe that everyone is doing
the best they can. You, me and my friend with her gigantic puppy. And so it was
eleven years ago when I thought I was training Andiamo to be a vaulting horse
even though he was clearly freaked out and anxious. Our best can merely be our
current best.

I think meeting
Andiamo again, being able to look back and see how I have grown, how I have
changed in the past decade has been one of the most valuable lessons of my
life. Because it is now clear to me that although people are always doing their
best, it doesn’t mean that their best cannot change to be even better. It can,
through an open mind, a lot of work and continuous reflection. It is a
(sometimes painful) practice that never ends. Tomorrow my best is hopefully
better than my best yesterday.

Others may evolve or
they may not. Regardless, they are doing the best they can. We really can’t ask
more from anyone.

that's a very nice post, I would like to be non judging and forgiving... but I'm not.... only diference now is that I tend to keep my opinions to myself and not have them out loud. fell out with a lot of people... however now some people have no idea why I avoid them.... tell them , insult them or avoid them?